


Plan 27

by lavvyan



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Communication Failure, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Inspired by Fanfiction, M/M, Romance Failure, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:59:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavvyan/pseuds/lavvyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Phil has a plan. It's a good one, if he does say so himself; maybe even his best one yet. It's a solid combination of plans 2 (ask him out for coffee), 13 (ask him out for coffee, ditch subtlety), 27 (be suave, for god's sake), 37 (reference good working relationship), and 51 (casually call him by first name).</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plan 27

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Digging a Hole (Dig Yourself Out)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/847860) by [raiining](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiining/pseuds/raiining). 



> So raiining posted this wonderful story full of Clint feelings and declarations and I kinda couldn't help myself so, uh. This happened. 
> 
> OMG RAIINING I'M SO SORRY.

Phil has a plan. It's a good one, if he does say so himself; maybe even his best one yet. It's a solid combination of plans 2 (ask him out for coffee), 13 (ask him out for coffee, ditch subtlety), 27 (be suave, for god's sake), 37 (reference good working relationship), and 51 (casually call him by first name). 

Incorporating plan 51 wasn't actually on the agenda, but after that stunt with the HYDRA base and the explosion that took out two supporting walls and the subsequent collapse of what had seemed like half the building at the time and the tracker that chose _that exact moment_ to stop sending its signal... well, let's just say it nearly gave Phil a heart attack and he isn't entirely sure he can say 'Barton' without his voice cracking. Which would negate plan 27, so, no.

It's a little bit embarrassing, perhaps, this torch Phil has been carrying for years. He's tried to get over it, to ignore it, to bury it, to stuff it into a barrel full of water and let the fish deal with it. To no avail. And he's not getting any younger, so if he's ever to find out if Barton returns Phil's interest, it will have to be soon. 

Hence, the plan. 

Luckily, Barton can always be relied on to linger after a debriefing. His various handlers over the years may have reported otherwise, but Phil has never known Barton not to leave last. 

So he waits until everyone else has left the briefing room, meeting Fury's smirk with his usual unimpressed gaze, before he calls out. 

"Agent-" Shit, _shit_ , plan 51, "uh. Clint."

Barton – _Clint_ , for god's sake, Phil should at least _try_ not to mess this up – visibly falters mid-step, head jerking around so he can stare at Phil. Is that a good sign? It's probably a good sign.

It's a bad sign, isn't it?

"Sir?" Clint asks, his voice still rough from all the dust he inhaled earlier, and there's color rising high on his cheeks, Jesus, is he running a fever? Phil should send him to medical to get himself checked over again. "Or, um. I. Phil?"

God. It's probably the only time he'll ever hear Clint say his name, but Phil wants to grab him by the shoulders and make him say it over and over again. 

Stick to the plan, he reminds himself. Be suave. Reference good working relationship.

"Do you trust me?" he asks. A moment later, he wants to take himself out behind the dumpsters and beat some sense into himself, preferably with his head against the wall. He's a seasoned agent, with a history of conducting field missions large and small, managing his assets in ways that make them fucking _shine_. And yet somehow, he thinks that the best way to get past Clint's defenses is to _bring up his trust issues_? 

He doesn't deserve coffee. What he deserves is a demotion back to probie. 

But, "I do," Clint says, wary and questioning and painfully sincere, looking earnestly at Phil like he thinks Phil might throw the words right back at his face. Like Phil's breath didn't just get stuck somewhere beneath his diaphragm. 

Be. Fucking. Suave.

"Then have coffee with me," he says, his voice surprisingly steady to his own ears. He really expected it to waver in time with his pounding heart. 

Clint's cheeks are pink now. Maybe it's not just Phil, and the room really is too warm. 

"Are you asking me to trust you not to put something in it?" he asks, gazing at the general vicinity of Phil's left knee. 

I'd like to put something in you, Phil thinks, and then blinks, appalled at himself. 

"I'm asking you to trust me," Phil starts, and he really means to end that sentence with something poignant, except he can't think of anything that doesn't sound cheesy or like a bad cliche and so the moment passes, disappears around the bend with a wave and the shouted promise to send a card from Vegas.

Maybe he should just return to plan 78 (write letter, shove it under his door). Clint has good eyes; given a little time, he can decipher Phil's chicken scratch. 

And yet, somehow, amazingly, despite Phil's failure to maintain a calm and confident air, Clint is starting to smile.

"I do," he says again, and his voice is soft and he's peering at Phil from beneath his lashes and for the second time in twelve hours, Phil is sure his heart's just going to stop because this is... Clint is... 

Holy mother of god. How did Phil not notice this?

"So," Clint says, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Phil might think the gesture entirely innocent, if he didn't know Clint. He does, though. "Coffee?"

"With pleasure," he says, reaching up to loosen his tie and pretending he doesn't notice the way Clint's eyes grow a little darker at the motion. Now that he's got his answer, Phil has decided that casual is the new suave and he doesn't really need his suit jacket, either. 

In a minute or two, they will go and have their coffee. Clint, as always, will take his black. 

Phil, just this once, will take his with a splash of milk, a little sugar, and sweet, sweet victory.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, my apologies. Sometimes, the cracky fluff just wants out. I just type it down. *coughs*

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Plan 27](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2106156) by [Readbyanalise010](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readbyanalise010/pseuds/Readbyanalise010)




End file.
